The grounds where we live provide Waldo and me some great places to walk.
Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.
-Helen Keller
Waldo and I woke at 6 AM this morning. Every night, I look at the forecast and pick the latest time we can leave the next day for our walk and finish before it gets hotter than about 74℉. We need a three-hour window to get up, get dressed and finish our six miles, and this summer, that’s meant getting up pretty early. Lately, we’ve been able get out of bed as late as 7 AM, but today, it’s going to be a bit hotter a bit earlier, so we had to get up at 6. 4 AM sucks, but 6 isn’t too bad. Usually. This morning, I got up and put on my socks, so it was for real.
I was feeling a bit tired, but nothing abnormal for that time of day. I was all set, except for putting on my boots, to head out the door. Waldo was lying on the floor, waiting patiently for me to get my act together. Suddenly, I felt a little sleepier than normal. That’s very unusual for me. Once the juices get flowing, I’m good to go. But I had the urge to nap, not walk. The forecast says the next few days are going to be 4 AM walks, or none at all, but, even so, I caved and decided to put off our trek for another day. Still, the dog has got to get out and do his business, so out we went. The plan morphed into doing our half-mile poop and pee loop, then come back home, have some breakfast, then hit the recliner for a couple-hour nap.
Once outdoors, I heard an Emmy bird, hiding somewhere in the foliage in her catbird seat. We talked a bit, as Waldo lifted his leg on the bushes, then, having said whatever it was that needed saying, we moved on. I can speak Emmy bird well enough that I can sometimes induce one to flit down to a perch near me, or land on the ground not far away. Once seeing that I wear a very peculiar set of feathers, and I have a companion who is a… predator, they take then off and go back into hiding. However, I don’t understand the language at all and I have no idea what’s being said. This morning, the bird does not show itself and, after exchanging a few bon mots, we move on toward the pooping grounds.
The other day, while we were out on the rail trail, a gorgeous red cardinal flew right in front of me, across our path. I pulled out my phone and searched for an audio of cardinal birdsong. Hearing that, I listened carefully to the woods. It wasn’t long before I heard a cardinal off in the bushes, making the same song. It’s a whistle, sliding from a low to high tone, repeated three or four times. I did my best to imitate it and the bird answered. This morning, when I heard cardinal-speak, I answered as best I could. Like the Emmy bird, the cardinal, who I couldn’t see, answered and we spoke for awhile. About something or other. Like is often the case with human interactions, what was said was not so important as the expression of the desire to interact.
Moving on, Waldo and I rounded the corner of a building and saw an elderly woman sitting on the ground, just outside the back door to the building, with her legs folded under her. I asked if she was okay and she said she tripped on the bottom step and couldn’t get up. She said that her wrists were a bit sore, especially the right, but otherwise, she was fine. I told her I understood completely and that I made it a practice to do my best not to go down without a solid plan about how I would get back up. But, hey, shit happens.
Obviously, I needed to help her get up. But first, I needed to figure out what I was going to do with Waldo. I told him to stay, locked the retractable reel of his leash so it wouldn’t retract and set the reel on the ground. I was pretty sure that if Waldo did wander off, he wouldn’t go far. As a puppy, that was a worry. These days, not so much.
There was no one else around, so, with the woman’s consent (I did mention that I am a retired doctor, she said she is a retired nurse), I got behind her, put my hands under her armpits and lifted. She was a short woman, but large. We got her onto her knees, but I couldn’t lift her all the way up without changing my position. So, I leaned over some more, changed my grip by running my arms around her upper chest and, grasping my hands together, I tried again. Lifting and leaning backward, doing my best not to join her on the ground, I finally got her onto her feet. She was good to go and refused further help. On the way to church when she fell, she continued on and went around the corner of building.
I turned to look at Waldo. The leash reel had not moved an inch. Anyone else watching might have been amused seeing two old farts wrestling around on the ground, but not Waldo. During the whole episode, he just stood there, watching. He gave me a “Are you done?” look and, as I picked up my end of the leash and unlocked the reel, he continued on his way as if this kind of thing happens all the time. What a great companion.
You see, adventure is out there, even right next to home on a short half-mile jaunt around the neighborhood.
You just have to be open to it.
There’s even some funky foliage, like this tree that looks like a crucifix.